The Transformation
by Cap'n Jackie Sparrow
Summary: Sweeney finds himself in a dream with his wife and child. After a somewhat gory and depressing dream, he wakes up and the devil decides to push him over the edge. Review please! Better than it sounds.


"Benjamin," a voice echoed. Sweeney opened his eyes and looked around. He was in the busiest intersection of London. What was he doing here? It was empty, and his footsteps clacked on the cobblestone street.

"Benjamin," the voice said again. He turned suddenly. There was no one. His pale face grew rigid. The one pure white streak through his crow black hair shone in the moonlight. He scowled and drew his straight razor.

"Daddy," another voice said.  
"Joanna?" he asked hopefully.  
"Benjamin," said the first voice. He spun around.  
"Lucy?" he asked. Two figures walked out of an alley way.

One was a tall pretty blonde haired woman in a white dress. Next to her was a young girl about fifteen that looked almost exactly like her.  
"Benjamin?" the woman asked, "Benjamin!" She ran to him. Sweeney dropped his straight razor in astonishment.  
"Lucy!" he exclaimed. He hugged her tightly. He could feel a single tear run down his cheek.  
"Lucy, I've missed you so much," he whispered. He let go of her.

"Benjamin," she said, "Meet your daughter." Lucy stepped aside.  
"Joanna?" he asked.  
"Daddy?" she said. He extended his arms and hugged her.  
"Oh Joanna, you look so much like your mother," he said proudly. He smiled at them both.

"I've come to tell you something Benjamin," Lucy said.  
"Of course, anything," he replied.  
"What you're doing is wrong," she murmured.  
"What?" Sweeney asked.

"This whole Judge Turpin thing Daddy," Joanna said, "Killing him isn't the answer."  
"What, of course it is," Sweeney said. Joanna looked at him with the same dark brown eyes he had.  
"Killing him won't bring us back," she said. Sweeney took a few paces back.  
"So you both are dead," he murmured. They didn't answer him. Suddenly, they disappeared, in their place, stood Judge Turpin.

Sweeney picked up his straight razor and scowled. Then he heard a soft whisper in his ear.  
_Don't do it honey_, it must have been Lucy's.  
_Please, I don't want my daddy to be a murder_, that must've been Joanna. He tried to listen, but this surge of hatred welled up inside of him. This man had killed Lucy, and had Joanna in his custody. As much as he tried to contain himself, rage swept over him.

Judge Turpin stood still as stone. He took a few paces toward him and then stopped.  
"Ahhhh, Sweeney Todd," the judge said, "How much would it cost for a shave?"  
Sweeney's face twisted in rage and anger, he gripped the cool handle of the straight razor more tightly. "Your life," he growled. The judge's face turned pale. Sweeney flicked open the straight razor.

_Daddy! No!_ The voices called. As much as he wanted to, he didn't listen.

Sweeney grit his teeth and sliced open the judge's neck. Blood sprayed from the wound and the judge fell to the ground. He writhed in pain as he was stabbed in the neck numerous times. Then, the judge died, in a pool of scarlet blood.

Sweeney felt a satisfaction well up in his chest. Suddenly, a mirror appeared before him. It showed him, covered in the judge's blood. It stained his clothes and even the white streak in his hair. Then, instead of him, the reflection of Lucy and Joanna appeared in the mirror. He looked beside him, but they were not there. He looked back up at the mirror.

"You are not my father," Joanna said.  
"And you are not my husband," Lucy said.  
"What no!" he exclaimed.  
"We knew a man named Benjamin Barker," they said simultaneously, their eyes looking past him, "He was a loving, respectable man. He was, but a humble barber." They looked at him.

"You are not this man. Your name, is Sweeney Todd, you are an evil, man. You murder, and you are driven by revenge."  
"My daddy was not a murder," Joanna said.  
"And my husband was never driven by revenge," Lucy said.

"No," Sweeney exclaimed, "I _am_ Benjamin Barker! I _am_ a barber!" The two images faded and a new picture appeared. It was an image of him fifteen years younger. He was smiling brightly and whistling. His hair was short and well groomed, without the white streak. His skin wasn't a sick pale and his eyes weren't cold and dead.

_This is who he was_, he could hear them whisper in unison. The picture changed to show him now, blood stained, with a straight razor in hand. His face was twisted in rage and anger. His hair was now shaggy and bore the white streak, which was soaked with blood.

_This is who you are. No one could say you are Benjamin Barker, _the voices said.  
"No!" he pleaded, "You have to understand. I'm doing this for you! Never forget, never forgive!"  
_Killing him will not bring us back_, they said, _and it will certainly not win our favor. You are not Benjamin Barker; you are Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street. Your cause is lost._

Tears streamed down Sweeney's face,  
"No," he said, "You guys don't know what you guys are talking about. This will help you, it will help!"

Sweeney awoke to his bed. He rushed to the mirror. He was not covered in blood, but his straight razor was clenched tightly in his hand so that his knuckles were white. He sighed in relief and walked back to the bed, finding a torn up pillow. The rips formed words that read _Lucy _and_ Joanna_. Tears streamed down his face. What was he becoming?

"Hey Sweeney," came a gruff voice. It was coming from the mirror.  
"Um, hello?" Sweeney asked uncertainly. He went up to the mirror. In it was him, but it wasn't mirroring him like a mirror should. It was a different him, staring lovingly at a straight razor.

"What do you want?" Sweeney asked. The reflection looked at him.  
"You look like you're seeing your dead mother, come on. It's me, Sweeney. You wouldn't be afraid of your own self would you?" it asked.

"Well, no," Sweeney said, sitting down slowly.  
"Good man," the reflection said.  
"So what do you want?" Sweeney asked.  
"Kill the judge," it stated.  
"Pardon?" Sweeney said.

"You heard me, you know it's what you really want to do," it replied temptingly.  
"But it won't bring Lucy or Joanna back," he said, trying to convince himself.  
"So you just want to let this man go unpunished then," the reflection asked, smirking. Sweeney was silent.

"Ahhhh, you don't," it said closing the straight razor with a click. It then looked at him knowingly and shoved the razor into its pocket,  
"But you don't want to put a black mark on your record." Sweeney glared at the reflection.

"Who are you?" he asked.  
"I'm your voice of reason," it said lazily, "I'm what you really feel and what you really want to do. I am also known as your heart. Everyone says to follow your heart."  
Sweeney thought for a moment. Then a deep scowl formed on his face.  
"I must kill the judge," he said.  
"That's the Sweeney I know," said the reflection.

Sweeney turned back to his bed. The thing he didn't see was the reflection turn into its normal form. From a normal man its skin turned red and two yellowish green horns grew from its head. The eyes and teeth both turned a fiery yellow and claws grew from its thin fingers. The hair fell out of its head and it grew a long thin tail. With a terrible sneer, it disappeared like smoke from the mirror.

This is the transformation of Benjamin Barker, to Sweeney Todd.


End file.
